


Everything happens for a reason

by Chalichi



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daryl is Not a Virgin, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Daryl, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Rating May Change, Romance, Slow Burn, mentions of depression, negan doesn't exist in this one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:59:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chalichi/pseuds/Chalichi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a run gone horribly wrong Daryl and Jesus gets locked in and has nothing to do but talk and wait out the walkers trapping them in. </p><p>(Bad summary, sorry!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is my first fanfic in this fandom.  
> I'm not sure it will be any good at all, but I will try.  
> English is not my native language so the spelling might not be the best. But I'm trying. 
> 
> First of all, Negan will not make an appearance in this fic. I erased him altogether. I just couldn't make him fit in this one. Hope you don't mind.  
> The part of where Rick and Daryl find Jesus have happened and hilltop exist. Just not the survivors.

It all had happened so fast.  
One minute they were searching for medication in the abandoned pharmacy, and the other there where raining walkers from the ceiling.  
Neither Daryl or Jesus had time to react before the rotting corpses started reaching for them, clawing and snarling their way at them.  
Daryl who had dropped his crossbow and was now unable to reach it, had grabbed his knife and stood back to back with Jesus trying to come up with a plan to escape this mess.  
"We should try to reach for the exit!" Jesus shouted as he stabbed a walker who was getting dangerously close.  
"Yea, I'm just tryin' to figure out how! There's to many of em'!" Daryl shouted back.  
The exit was in the back of the pharmacy and there was over twenty walkers blocking their way. If that wasn't enough there was walkers still dropping from the ceiling.  
"We could try to stab our way further back! I think I saw a door back there!" Jesus shouted back at Daryl. "It's worth a shot, if we stand here much longer we will be walker food!"  
Daryl grunted a response and started walking back with Jesus in tow, stabbing walkers as they went. 

As they moved closer to the door a large SNAP was heard. Both Daryl and Jesus looked up at the souse of the sound.  
A large crack was forming on the ceiling, and was growing bigger by the minute.  
"We gotta move! NOW! This shit will cave in any second!" Daryl shouted in a panic stained voice.  
They were close to the door but walkers were surrounding them, and it was impossible for them to doge their way pass them to the door.  
Jesus was scanning the room for anything to help them along. And right then he discovered a fairly large shelf to their right. He shuffled pass some walkers, stabbing three of them on his way there.  
He was in luck. The shelf wasn't screwed to the floor.  
"Daryl! Help me with this!"  
Daryl ran over to him quickly, successfully dogging the snarling walkers on his way.  
Together they grabbed the shelf and started pushing it forward.  
"We need ta get a little closer to the door before we drop it on em'!" Daryl said.  
Said and done they used the shelf as a shield, pushing the walkers backwards before dropping the shelf on them.  
As they were running to the door another startling crack was heard and it started falling concrete and dust from the ceiling.  
Daryl stopped in his tracks and looked upward.  
The crack was a big gaping hole and a new round of walkers started dropping down, taking various furniture with them on their way down. The lamp on the ceiling was started to come loose and a walker was hanging from it tangled in the wires from it.  
It was a quite disturbing sight.  
"Daryl! What the fuck are you doing! Come on!" Jesus shouted from the now open door. 

Daryl snapped out of it and started to run towards the door again.  
Then another crack was heard and Daryl stopped and turned around.  
The crack grew in size spreading across the ceiling towards the door. Rotten walker water and pieces of concrete came falling down the gaping hole.  
Daryl didn't have time to react before a large piece of concrete fell down on him.  
He felt a weight on the side of his head and then a sharp pain.  
His vision started blurring up and he tumbled to the floor.  
He heard Jesus calling his name and the disturbing moans and snarls from the walkers making their way towards him.  
He felt a pair of hands on him as he started to fall out of consciousness. 

 

Jesus ran towards Daryl as he saw him falling down towards the floor.  
He stabbed a walker who had come too close for his liking.  
Jesus slung Daryl's arm abound his shoulders and lifted him up carefully, trying not to shake him to badly.  
He made his way towards the room, putting Daryl down on a dirty sofa in the back of the room.  
Once he had put Daryl down he ran back to the door to make sure the door was closed properly.  
He dragged a dusty desk he towards the door and used it to barricade the door.  
Once he was certain the door was holding the walkers out of the room he walked back tho the unconscious Daryl on the sofa.  
He looked over where the pice of concrete had hit Daryl in the head and saw a fairly large gash going from his right temple to the back of his ear. He would be needing stitches. The bleeding was quite bad but not alarming.  
He used a rag he had found in one of the desk drawers to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding best he could, and cursed under his breath for dropping the supplies they had scavenged when the walkers had started falling.  
He looked around in the small room for anything useful.  
There was a small bookshelf, a desk chair, the desk who was standing against the door, the small sofa and an ugly dirty rug.  
The room was painted in a dirty white color. There was a poster of a girl in a bikini on the wall where the sofa was.  
But nothing useful to help Daryl with. Not even a bandaid!  
The only thing he could do now was to wait for Daryl to regain consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Jesus had successfully stopped the bleeding. And after checking Daryl over he had discovered a small bleeding in the back of Daryl’s head. A piece of concrete must've hit him there too.  
He wasn't running a fever and his breathing was even, but he hadn't stirred at all. Hadn't even made a sound when Jesus moved him around when checking him.  
Jesus was getting a little worried.  
It was getting dark, as was shown from a small window in the back of the small room. The sun was hanging low in the sky and the walkers hadn't shown any interest in moving away from the pharmacy.  
Jesus moved away from Daryl to the slightly bent and bloodied desk chair and sat down. He thought back on how they got here. 

\------------------ 

Rick had stopped Jesus when he was walking from Tara's house.  
“Hey! May I have a word with you?”  
Jesus turned to the man. Rick looked tired. Like he hadn't slept for weeks.  
“Sure! What's up?” Jesus asked.  
“I talked with Denice a few minutes ago, and we looked over the medicine supplies. It doesn't look good. We're completely out of antibiotics. And we're running low on painkillers and other medical supplies. We need to go on a run!” Rick said. He dragged his hand across his face and looked Jesus in the eyes.  
“I can't go myself, I need to stay with Judith. She's sick. Haven't slept to great the past two nights.” Rick said with a sigh.  
“Is she ok? Nothing bad right?!” Jesus asked. He liked Rick’s kids. He had been spending a lot of time with them every time he visited Alexandria. Which was more and more frequent.  
“Nah, probably just a bug of some sort. But you could never be too careful these days. Which is why I'm asking you to go on this run. Would you do that?” Rick asked, almost in a pleading voice.  
“Yeah sure. But why me? Why not like Daryl or Glenn?”  
Rick offered him a half smile. “Daryl is coming with you. I don't want you to go alone. Glenn is taking care of Maggie. She feels a little under the whether do to her pregnancy.” Rick said.  
Jesus looked at him wide eyed.  
“Okay, and Daryl agreed on that?” Jesus liked Daryl,a lot. He liked his gruff attitude and he wasn't hard on the eyes either. They had grown a little closer since the first day they met, but Daryl hated it when Jesus joked with him or bluntly flirted with him. So it was safe to say that Daryl didn't like Jesus that much. Tolerated him, sure. But they weren't best friends. 

Rick laughed at that.  
“I said that I was going to ask Glenn to go with him. So he has no idea you're going with him.”  
‘Perfect’ Jesus thought. ‘That's going to be a nice chat’ 

Daryl wasn't happy about Jesus tagging along. He had been in a sour mood since they sat down in the car. They had sat in an tensed silence the whole car ride to the pharmacy. Jesus had glanced over at the frowning Daryl every now and then. 

 ---------------

Jesus snapped out of his daydream and sat up a little straighter on the chair. It was pitch black out, the only light came from a small sliver of the moon. The walkers could still be heard from outside of the door.  
Jesus stood up and walked over to the still knocked out Daryl, he hadn't moved the slightest and Jesus was getting more worried by the second. What if he wouldn't wake up? What if he was in a coma? He couldn't run for help, and he couldn't drag an unconscious Daryl back to Alexandria. He wasn't even sure he should move him.  
“Daryl?” Jesus asked “Daryl? Please wake up! You can't sleep any longer now. We have to go in the morning!” 

Daryl showed no signs of hearing him. Jesus sighed and dropped down beside him on the ugly rug with his back resting on the sofa.  
He sat there for a few minutes just staring at the rug, trying to figure out which shade of yellow it used to be, when he heard a raspy moaning sound from behind him.  
Jesus jumped and turned around quickly.  
Daryl twisted and turned in obvious discomfort. He had a pained look on his face.  
“Daryl? You awake?” Jesus asked standing up to take a look at him. 

Daryl opened his eyes slowly and hummed. “Yeah. What happened? Feels like a building dropped on me.” Daryl said with a strained voice.  
“That's about right” Jesus said trying to joke. He was relieved that Daryl was finally waking up. 

“How long was I out?” Daryl said trying to sit up, but Jesus placed a hand to his chest pushing him back.  
“You shouldn't try to sit up just yet, we have no idea how badly you're hurt.” Jesus said softly  
Daryl gave Jesus a dirty look and huffed but complied nevertheless.  
He grimaced slightly when he adjusted himself to a more comfortable position.  
“How are you feeling?” Jesus asked. “Besides the obvious pain I mean. Do you feel nauseous or anything?”  
Daryl took a deep breath before he answered and breathed out through his nose.  
“Yea, a little but not that bad.” He said weakly. “My head hurts like a bitch though. You wouldn't have any of those painkillers lyin’ around?”  
Daryl gazed over at Jesus.  
“No.” He said. “ I dropped the bag just outside after the ceiling caved in. I had to leave it when I went back for you. Couldn't carry both you and the bag”  
Jesus looked down at his feet, he was sure Daryl would be pissed at him now.  
“Shit.” He said.  
After a few minutes Daryl spoke again.  
“You never answered my question. How long was I out?” 

Jesus looked up at Daryl again before answering.  
“I'm not sure. A few hours. It was early afternoon when the ceiling came falling down, and I'm guessing it's closer to midnight about now.” 

“Shit” Daryl said again. 

“You could say that again.” Jesus said. “And by the looks of it we will be stuck here for some time.”  
Daryl snapped his head up at that and grimaced immediately at the sudden movement.  
“Whys that?” He asked.  
“Well, for starters the walkers outside. It doesn't look like they're planning on moving any time soon.  
And even if they were moving away sometime tonight I don't feel comfortable by moving you around right now anyway.” Jesus said giving Daryl a stern look. 

Daryl huffed “I've had worse. I'm fine!” The words didn't match his weak voice. 

“Right!” Jesus said giving Daryl a weak smile. 

Daryl repositioned himself again so it was easier for him to look at Jesus without straining his neck to much.  
“Aigh’t! Since we'll be here all night anyway, what do you suggest we do?” Daryl asked. 

“Well I don't really want you to go back to sleep, since I do believe you have a concoction. So I guess there's nothing more to do than to talk.” Jesus said with a shrug. 

Daryl stared at Jesus for a while and then turned his head to look up at the ceiling.  
“Sounds fucking fantastic!” He said sarcastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright that was chapter two. I know it's a really slow start, but things will mover forward from here.  
> And I wrote this in Jesus POV, but that was because Daryl was unconscious for the majority of the chapter.  
> It will be in Daryl's POV for now on. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild trigger warning! 
> 
> Chapter contains mentions about suicide and depression.   
> Nothing grafic though.

Daryl felt like shit, but he would never admit that to anyone. His head throbbed painfully and he felt a sharp pain every time he turned his head, so he tried to keep as still as possible. Which wasn't that difficult to do since every time he moved the slight nausea grew worse, and he didn't want to throw up.   
He was tired but the younger man was determined to keep him awake, he knew he had to, he wasn't stupid. But he didn't feel like talking. 

“Do you feel any worse?” Jesus asked. He was seated on the floor beside him, he hadn't moved from the spot since Daryl woke up about an hour ago. “You look a little green, do you need a bucket or something?” 

Daryl breathed slowly from his nose trying to still the sudden spell of nausea. “Nah, m’ good” he breathed when he could speak again. “Feel a little sick from time to time s’all. Nothing bad, I'll live.” 

“I'm sure you will. I just want to help if you need it.” Jesus said.   
Daryl gave Jesus a stern look and readjusted himself so he was laying on his right side instead of on his back. That movement made him grunt in pain and made his head spin.  
Jesus stood up immediately and put a hand on Daryl's shoulder trying to comfort him. Daryl shrugged his hand away, regretting the sudden movement right away when it made his dizzy spell even worse. He breathed slowly, and made a pained sound. He felt ridiculous.   
“Quit moving around! You'll make it worse!” Jesus scolded.   
Daryl closed his eyes , willing his head to stop spinning. 

He opened his eyes after a few minutes, the dizzy spell under control once again.   
It throbbed something awful in his head, and he was still feeling a bit sick.   
“M’ sorry.” Daryl mumbled.   
Jesus, who had moved away, was now sitting on the desk chair again, looked up at him.   
“What did you say?” He asked. 

Daryl sighed. “ I said, I'm sorry!” He said in a louder voice. 

Jesus just stared at him. Completely in shock.   
Daryl was starting to feel uncomfortable under the younger mans gaze, it felt so intense. His eyes were so bright they practically glowed in the moonlight.   
He dropped his eyes and stared at Jesus boots instead. 

“I just don't like to feel this helpless.” He suddenly blurted out. “If you're helpless you have to rely on other people, and it's not something I like doiń” 

“You're not helpless Daryl. You're hurt, there's a difference.” Jesus said in a calm low voice. 

Daryl looked up at Jesus and locked eyes with him again.   
“Well it sure as hell feels like it! Can't even turn myself in this god damn sofa without it feeling like I'm dying!” Daryl shouted. 

It started to bang on the door and a few gurgling moans was heard from outside the room.   
Jesus turned his head towards the door to make sure nothing came in. 

“You have to be quiet!” Jesus whispered. “If you want to get out of here sometime in the next few days that is?”   
Daryl shut his mouth and closed his eyes again.

 

“Do ya have a plan then?” Daryl asked after a few minutes of silence. The disturbing notices from the walkers outside had died down a bit, and the silence was making Daryl uneasy. 

“what?” Jesus asked. 

Daryl took a deep breath and repeated the question.   
“Do ya have a plan? To get out of here. What if the walkers doesn't loose interest?” 

There was a creaking noise as Jesus got out of the chair and walked over to Daryl and took a seat on the floor again.   
“No.” Jesus said. “Right now I'm just hoping the walkers will wander off.”  
Daryl opened his eyes and looked over at Jesus. 

“Mhm, and If they don't? I'm sorry to say it, but I'm in no shape to squeeze through that small window over there.” Daryl said gesturing to the small window in the back of the room.   
Jesus laughed and shook his head.   
“No, I didn't think you would.” Jesus said grinning. 

Daryl gave Jesus a small smile of his own.   
Jesus clears his throat and looked at Daryl.   
“Well, since we'll be stuck here for at least the remaining time of the night, I say we do something to pass the time.” He said. 

“What do you have in mind?” Daryl said eyes half closed. 

He felt extremely tired again, it took a lot of energy trying not to throw up! 

“Well, how about just talk? We have to keep you awake.” Jesus said shaking Daryl playfully. 

“Ugh! Don't do that!” Daryl said, sounding pathetic in his own ears. 

Daryl took some calming breaths before trying to speak again.   
“Talk about what?” He asked. 

Jesus were silent for a while before he responded.  
“Well, we've known each other for a few weeks now, but we've never really talked right? I would really like to get to know you for real!” He said. 

Daryl huffed a laugh. “M’ not really that interesting.” He said. 

“Can't say I believe you Dixon!” Jesus said. “How about we take turns asking each other questions?” 

Daryl just stared at Jesus, mouth in a thin line.   
“I think that's an awful idea.” 

“Oh come on! It's a great idea! This way we can choose the interesting parts!” Jesus said wiggling his brows at Daryl. 

Daryl snorted, but couldn't help a little smirk tugging at the end of his mouth. 

Daryl changed position in the sofa again, laying on his back instead, the world didn't spin that badly this time. 

“Fine! Since we don't have anything better to do right now.” Daryl said when he was comfortable enough. 

“Great!” Jesus said excitedly. “I'll go first! I'll start of with an easy one. Like, what were your hobbies before the turn?” 

Daryl thought for a while before answering.   
“Didn't really have any hobbies. I liked hunting I guess.” He settled with. 

“Was expecting something like that.” Jesus said.   
“Your turn!”

Daryl couldn't come up with anything to ask, and the mild throbbing in his scull didn't help much either. 

“Don't know.”he mumbled.

“Oh come on Dixon! Ask me anything!” He said. 

Daryl settled for something simple.   
“Aight! What did you do before the turn?” 

“I worked at Burger King.” Jesus said a little embarrassed. 

Daryl's eyes grew wide.   
“You did what?” 

Jesus started to scratch at a small hole in the sofa.  
“Yeah, I didn't go to collage, and I wanted to help my mom out.   
You see, she had to work two jobs just to afford rent and food. It was just me and her. And a few years ago she came down with chronic depression. She had to leave work and I had to pitch in, take care of her like she took care of me.”  
Jesus voice started to shake a little, so he took a deep breath and cleared his throat.   
“My mom took her own life after a few years of fighting the depression. An overdose on sleeping pills. Happened about a year before the turn.” 

Daryl felt his heart sink. He could tell this was a hard subject for Jesus.   
He kept poking at the hole in the sofa, some of the stuffing falling out. 

“M’ sorry.” Daryl said.   
Jesus looked up at him with a small smile, eyes shining in the moonlight. 

“It's ok, was a long time ago. Doesn't matter anymore.” 

After that the question game were long forgotten and they kept on talking throughout the night, Daryl telling him some stories about when he was a kid. Telling him about how Merle thought him how to shoot with the crossbow.  
Told him about how his mother died, since Jesus had shared his story about his mom, he thought that was the least he could do.

 

He was surprised about how easy it was to talk to Jesus, the last person he felt this comfortable with was Carol, and maybe Beth. But he hadn't opened up so fast to them. It felt nice. 

“So you just torched the place and watched it burn to the ground?” Jesus asked.   
Daryl had just told him about how he and Beth had burnt the old shed to the ground. 

“Yea, Beth thought it was a good idea. Therapy or some shit like that.” He said. 

Jesus, who was now laying on the ugly carpet, sat up on his elbows to look at Daryl. 

“She sounded like a smart girl.” 

Daryl hummed. “She was. Strong too, in her own way.”  
Thinking about Beth still made his heart clench. He would never get over the way she had died. 

“Mm, I bet she was.” Jesus said and folded his arms under his head. 

The sun had started to rise, making the sky turn pink and purple outside.   
Daryl started to push himself to a seated position, Jesus were there quickly to help him up.   
Daryl mumbled a quiet “thanks” to him.   
His head still throbbed, but he was hopeful that he might be able to walk out of the pharmacy without incident. 

Jesus stood with his ear pressed to the door, listening for any sounds of the heard of walkers. 

“There might be some left.” He said after a while. “I'll go out a take care of them, and then I'll come back for you.” 

Daryl just gave him a quick nod, too exhausted to complain. 

Jesus pushed the heavy desk away from the door, and walked out.   
A few gurgling sounds where heard as soon as Jesus existed the room, followed with slicing sounds. 

Jesus reappeared after a few minutes, breathing heavily and with fresh walker blood smeared on his face and his gloved hands.   
He had the dropped bag hanging from one shoulder. 

“Come on.” He said walking over to Daryl, helping him up from the sofa.  
“I've cleared the area. There was only five left.   
And the parking lot looks empty, we should be able to go back.” 

With Jesus supporting most of Daryl's weight, they started walking out of the room.

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope this chapter didn't suck too bad!  
> I will try to update regularly, every week or so. And I will also try to write longer chapters. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated!


End file.
